The Last Thing
by Pineapple Pancake
Summary: Set right after Battle City. Kaiba ends up venting in a coffee shop about losing his own tournament and the endless friendship speeches he gets, but receives some very wise words from a college girl just trying to procrastinate her homework.


The Last Thing

* * *

I returned to my table, third large cup of black coffee in my hand. I was in my first year at Ivybrook University, the local private college in Domino City, and while most of the semester had been amazing, I was pretty much done that night. In fact, I had half a mind to just slam my laptop shut and head to my roommate's boyfriend's sister's friend's party. Fortunately, the person who walked through the doors at the junction of my decision making was interesting enough to convince me to avoid _that_ fiasco.

Seto Kaiba. The tall, dark, and handsome president of Kaiba Corporation walked into the cute little coffee shop with his head down and his arms crossed. I couldn't help but to raise an eyebrow; though I'd never met the guy in person, I'd always heard that he was highly conceited and stoic. At that moment, he looked a little more like the awkward kid who spends all his time in the computer lab at school, and was just told that he has to go spend lunch in the cafeteria, just like everybody else. I watched as he approached the counter and ordered a large black coffee, the same as me. The barista glanced over in my direction as she accepted some bills from him. I turned my attention back to my computer and began working on my ridiculously boring undergraduate calculus problems.

Halfway through solving the first one in approximately four hours, I heard the barista call out to him.

"Would you mind sitting over on this side?" She motioned towards my table. "We're closing in an hour and I've got to start cleaning over here." I half-expected him to either refute that or just walk out, but he moved over and sat at the table right across from me, grumbling. I clicked through the rest of my math problem, then decided to go for it.

"You look like hell," I said, just barely glancing at him over my laptop. He glared at me through dark blue eyes and took another sip before responding.

"I'm not one to talk about any of that."

I smirked to myself, scanning over to the next problem. "I don't think you need to. The whole town saw."

"What do you mean?" he demanded harshly, his hand gripping the coffee cup a bit too tightly, causing the liquid to erupt through the lid and scald his hand. He barely flinched, but I tossed him a napkin, which he hesitantly accepted.

"I mean, your company broadcast that duel to the entire city. Everyone saw you lose to that kid Yugi. I've just never seen anybody take losing as hard as you do," I said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's not just about winning," he muttered, though he seemed to be sizing me up. "Who _are_ you, anyway?"

"Zoey," I told him absently, saving my work and shutting my computer down. He snorted and looked out the window.

"That rhymes with Joey." There was a look of total disgust on his face, which made me grin for some reason. I knew he was thinking of that crazy blonde duelist.

"They do call you a genius," I drawled sarcastically, and took a sip of my own coffee. He shot me a scathing look, and I raised an eyebrow again. "Anyway, tell me, how can a person arrange an entire tournament designed to prove to the whole world that he is the greatest duelist ever, then claim that it's not all about winning after he loses? I must be missing something."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, glaring daggers through the window. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to respond, but he did.

"It was about moving on. And then Yugi and his dumb friend Wheeler had to start preaching to me about friendship and destiny and other dumb crap." The daggers turned into flaming double-edged swords and he squeezed his cup once again, spilling even more coffee. He jumped a bit, but otherwise casually wiped the spill away. "I have never met bigger advocates of friendship since weekday morning cartoons."

"Why does that make you so angry?" I asked.

"I'm _not_ angry."

"You clearly are. Otherwise you wouldn't keep spilling your coffee...seriously, there's probably more coffee soaked up in that napkin than in your stomach," I told him, pointing the the stained lump of paper beside his cup. I tossed him another clean napkin.

He ignored it. "Everybody in the world is alone. Everybody only looks out for themselves, and we have absolutely no obligation to do otherwise."

"Sounds like that's coming from someone who has experienced quite a bit of loss," I said quietly, staring directly into his eyes. They were intense, and I was willing to bet that most people never spoke to him the way I had, because I couldn't tell whether he felt exposed or just pissed; either way, he remained quiet, so I continued. "Tell me one person who is important to you."

His gaze only intensified even more. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"My little brother."

"Is he your friend?"

"He's my _brother_."

"He's either your friend or your enemy. There is no gray area with this stuff. It's like with good and evil, sweet and bitter, love and hate. If he's not against you, then he's with you, and vice versa."

Kaiba closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. He appeared calmer, and I gave him a small smile.

"My brother would _never_ be against me."

"Then he is your friend," I said, gathering all my stuff into a pile, and slipped my laptop into my bag. "And whether you like it or not, the very last thing anybody in the word is, would be alone. I can tell that you and your brother are close, just by the way you're speaking, so that goes for you, too. The last thing in the world that _you_ are is alone. You'll have to deal with that, I'm afraid." I reached out and patted his hand quickly, then slung my bag over my shoulder. "Anyhow, I hope you work out whatever is going on in that head of yours. I gotta bounce. Good luck."

I walked through the doors, and as I passed the front of the building on my way out to my car, I saw him staring at the hand that I'd touched. I smiled to myself; he had heard what I'd said, and he was going to be all right.


End file.
